


You Know, Don't You?

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Stanford Era, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:50:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam left for Stanford. Dean thought that was it - it was over, until he found Sam's note.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @loveitsallineed (Tumblr) Follower Challenge.  
> Prompt: Roman Holiday - Halsey

_We were too young. I was barely fourteen, you were almost an adult, strong - a warrior, my hero. I pushed for it - that night watching the fireworks._

  
_Thirteen and you’d kissed me, but refused to do more - this year was the year we’d finally make my dream come true._

  
_I’d worn that perfume I saw you smelling - a girl from some random town that neither of us remember - do you even remember her name?_

  
_The backseat of our home - the 1967 Chevy Impala you babied almost as much as you babied me - you didn’t baby me after that did you, Dean? No, you took me apart on that worn leather backseat. All teeth and spit, tongues and hands - we were too young but every second was worth it. I cried and you laughed, kissing away the tears and calling me a girl, I didn’t mind, not when it was you. The best night of my life, Dean, don’t you know that?_

  
_Dad was pissed - of course. We almost burned down the woods last year and this year we snuck out without his permission, we got in so much trouble - I’d never seen him so angry._

_  
You know he knew, don’t you? He knew that it was my big brother that stole my virginity when I was barely turned teen. He smelled you on me - I saw it in his eyes. He tried his damndest to keep us apart after that but you and me, us against the world. He never looked at you the same, or me. He knew what his sons got up to behind his back in the dark of the dirty motel rooms and the smooth leather of the car we called home._

_  
You know it hurt him, don’t you?_

_  
You promised to never let me go in the dirty, over-chlorinated water of that motel in Wyoming. You said someday you were gonna marry me. We had so many fake ID’s, fake birth certificates - we could do it. I cried and laughed at you and all you did was smile, you took me apart in the water and I forgot how to spell my name for a few hours._

_  
I could see it in your eyes - you were being honest. You were showing me a side of you that no one had ever seen before. I knew the night you professed your love to me in so many words that you weren’t telling me a lie. I could see the fear in your eyes when you suggested we run away on my eighteenth birthday. Get married and never look back._

_  
Don’t you know why I laughed? Even though I knew it’d sting you to the core - I laughed because I was seventeen and I had the acceptance letter to Stanford tucked into my duffel bag. I laughed to hurt you, because your plan would never work. You’d never leave Dad, no matter how much you care for me. And Dad would never let you love me the way you wanted to. I laughed so you’d know it was stupid. I laughed so we would enjoy our time together and not worry about the future. I laughed because I was gonna run from my past - and you._

_  
You know I meant to hurt you, don’t you?_

_  
Dirty Converse and scuffed up hiking boots piled with our clothes in the footwell of the car. Pulled into a turn off on the side of the highway; you knew we were risking getting caught. You didn’t care, you said. You needed me, then and there, and damn it all if someone tried to stop you._

_  
My heart jumped into my throat every time I saw a car pass but you quieted me with kisses and touches, burning pleasure inside and out. I knew Dad would be looking for us - we were supposed to be home hours ago. But you looked so pretty when you slept and I couldn’t wake you. You still didn’t know what I was planning to do - run away from everything we had. Maybe you did, maybe you were pretending it wouldn’t happen, or you could change my mind if you made me come hard enough; I could never read what you were thinking anyway._

  
_You don’t know Dad found us that night. I was half asleep when I heard his truck pull up behind us. There was no hiding it. He saw us in the backseat, legs and arms twined like the lovers we were, not the brothers we were supposed to be. I didn’t back down, I didn’t let him scare me. You made me brave - nay, reckless. I looked him straight in the face and dared him to try and hurt us._

_  
You know I hurt him that night and I couldn’t care less, don’t you?_

_  
I’ll be miles away by the time you see this, and I won’t look back. I’ll remember the taste of your mouth, our very last kiss, no matter what. I’ll remember your perfect smile and the weight of you over me every time we made love. I’ll remember singing to the same three songs over and over until we were hoarse from laughing. I’ll remember crying on your shoulder. I’ll remember it all._

_But I won’t look back, Dean. Even you can't make me._

_  
Your bed will be cold for a while but you’ll get past it, find yourself a good woman or man, at least for a night. You’ll be mad - get mad. Hunt, yell, do what you do best. Do what you need to to let me go._

_  
You know I won't look back, don't you? You know you gotta let me go. Keep running, Dean - I'm holding you back. You run, run and hold your head up. Go make me proud, my hero._

  
The paper was covered in tear stains, fallen without Dean noticing, streaking the black ink that held Sam’s last words.

  
The room was empty - Dad on a hunt. Dean had driven Sam to the bus station after their Dad told Sam to get out, stunned to silence the whole trip.

  
Sam had pressed one, salty kiss to his mouth and whispered that he’d miss Dean so much, and to forgive him. And to not follow him.

  
Well screw that.

  
Dean tugged on those same scuffed boots Sam mentioned in the letter and climbed into the car that was their home and bed to make love. Duffel in the backseat, smooth, worn leather so familiar from all the times he and Sam laid together on it, familiar opening chords of the last song they sung together echoing through the dead silent night.

  
He was being stubborn, he was being stupid. But Dean didn't care. Sam had run away and taken Dean’s heart with him. It didn't matter what Dad wanted, or even what was right. No, _right_ was Sam back in Dean’s arms, running from their past together.

  
The tires squealed when Dean sped out of the parking lot headed west.

  
You know I don't care what anyone says, as long as you're with me, don't you, Sammy?

 


End file.
